Ancient Blood: Mortal Flesh
by Aensland
Summary: A.U. Because of his bloodline Harry is taken from the doorstep of the Dursley's by two dragon half breeds to live with them and their clan until it is his time to head for Hogwarts.
1. On dragon's wings

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or anything associated with it in any way, shape, or form.  
  
Note: Alright ya'll, this here is my second real attempt at a fanfic so any comments/criticism is welcome. This is just a sort of prologue by the way. The next chapter will be skipping ahead a bit in years (Harry is probably going to be around seven) and most of the confusing stuff should be explained in the next couple of chapters. Oh this is an AU by the way.  
  
Note 2: I'm not from England and I've never been there so please inform me about any mistakes in traditions, places, slang, etc.  
  
*******  
  
On this All's Hallow Eve, the street of Privet Drive in Surrey, England displayed proudly to the world how completely normal it was, for there was not a single house on Privet Drive that had anything to do with 'this ridiculous holiday.' There was not a child in the streets, not a single decoration in the yards, not even a family staying up, discussing the night's haul with over-enthused children. In other words, it was a horribly boring place. And the little house with the address number four was no exception.  
  
There was, however, one thing odd about Privet Drive this night. A man was walking up the street looking at house numbers, and an elderly man at that, considering his long silver hair and beard that could be tucked into his pants. Now such a thing might not normally be considered strange, but this man was walking about at one o'clock in the morning dressed in what looked to be a vibrant purple dress (they were in fact robes).  
  
The man, whose name happened to be Albus Dumbledore, didn't seem to notice the opaque normalcy of the street he had just arrived upon. Indeed, instead of bothering with even trying to look inconspicuous in any way whatsoever, he paused in the middle of the street to rummage through his clothing.  
  
His face brightened as he pulled an object from his robes. His mouth scrunched to one side as he apparently realized it wasn't what he was looking for. Shrugging his shoulders, Albus removed a small yellow ball from its box and popped it into his mouth, and went back to poking around through his robes once again. Pulling a small silver device from his robes, he flicked the contraption open and began to flick his thumb against its side, using it much like you would a cigarette lighter, but instead of a flame coming out of it, with each flick the device pulled light from the lampposts. Moments later he had put out enough light to leave the block in darkness.  
  
Seemingly unaffected by the sudden lack of light, Albus continued his stroll down Privet Drive. Stopping at the house marked number four he reached into his robes once again, this time finding what he sought immediately. He pulled out what appeared to be a pocket watch, glanced at it for a moment before returning to his study of the surroundings.  
  
***  
  
Within the artificial darkness two pairs of golden light flared, following the movements of the elderly man with an eccentric mode of dress and his rather long hair. From their place on top of a house down the block from the old man the two figures follow the old man's glance to a small figure by his feet. Their eyes widened as the small figure changed in to a human like shape. The two humans seemed to start discussing something.  
  
"Even now, as they grow more powerful, they fail themselves. I yet have my doubts that they have the strength to become an Elder Race." The gold glow of his eyes dimly outlined the speakers face, revealing a weathered face with a rather pointed nose and a strong, clean shaven jaw.  
  
His associate remained in her crouched position, moving only to shake her head, a few dark curls escaping the small headband that held them in place. She spoke softly, with a hint of an Italian accent. and a trace of something else. "It is not our place, at this time, to judge." Her mouth curved slightly with a hint of a smile as she watched the aged man. "For all our accounts, he is almost as old as you are, and still he shows no such frailty." A soft, dry chuckle escaped her lips at some hidden joke. "They are not as un-resourceful as one might think. But, the race of Man is, yet, still a child. Perhaps, with time, they will find their place among us."  
  
Drawn from their study of the old man and his companion a few minutes later by a thunderous noise, they turned their attention skyward, as an enormous figure on a flying motorbike landed on the street only a few meters from the old man. The man who had just stepped of the motorbike was far larger than any human either of them had ever seen.  
  
That which had moments before been a slight smile on the woman's aristocratic face broke into a full fledged grin, transforming her face, from that of somewhat mature woman to that of an almost childlike countenance. "No matter how you look at that one, I dare say, you could never call him a frail." She said in reference to her companion's favorite term for the human race.  
  
The pair strained their ears trying to hear the conversation that was occurring between the old man's growing party, neither being particularly successful. A few moments later, though, when the large man started blubbering loudly over a small basket containing a baby, they realized that the group was planning on leaving the small child, which the giant man on the motorbike had brought with him, on a family's porch step. The larger figure moved as if to intercept the trio, only to have a restraining hand placed on his shoulder. He glanced at his smaller companion, who shook her head, golden eyes briefly obscured by her dark hair.  
  
"We wait until they leave." Was all that she said in way of an explanation, as she removed her hand from his shoulder. To most it would probably seem odd that someone that was far bigger than she was would just nod and sit back down, but her companion knew her well, and she was named Aklari'Fsik, Temple of Flame (in their native tongue), for a reason and not just for her sometimes hot headedness and quick temper. And lately Aklari had been a literal bomb waiting to go off.  
  
She moved over to the chimney on the edge of the house and hoisted herself up onto its top, using it as a stool. Resting her head in her palm, she watched as the group bade each other farewell. She began to twitch with impatience with the waiting, as the old man seemed to dawdle. Only after he had finally decided to let the light get out of his little device and fly back to the streetlights and vanish from sight, did Aklari move from her perch.  
  
Standing up on the chimney top, she paused for a moment as her eyes faded from the shinning gold color to a more subdued hazel, before jumping off the edge, her tattered cloak billowing in the rush downward. Landing on the ground with a muted thud she called back to the rooftop, "Well? Are you coming or not?"  
  
"Already two steps ahead of ya, Little Vsanhk." Turning around she glared at the larger man, mouth curled in disgust, but she refrained from making any comment. She sped up her pace, matching his stride.  
  
The pair started walking toward the house the trio of nighttime visitors had left the boy at in silence. Upon reaching the house, of number four, Privet Drive, the pair approached the door as quietly as they could, fearing they would wake the inhabitants of the house. Looking down at the small slumbering child Aklari let her talon-like fingers glide gently over the boy's chubby cheek.  
  
"Take a look at him Brevyt, he is so tiny." Her eyes widened when she realized that the boy's entire body fit into the palm of her hand. Just the palm.  
  
Brevyt's voice was gravelly as he replied. "He looks so fragile. His blood can't be as strong as ours." He leaned over the infant and lightly inhaled his scent. "He is human. mostly," Twin tears streaked down his face. "Too human.. We can't take him Aklari, he is far too human."  
  
Aklari turned sharply to face him, clutching the boy to her chest, her voice deepened into a guttural mockery of her previous accent. No longer speaking in the English tongue the words she spoke had a great deal too many consonants and far too few vowels, words that tore at the throat and ears, yet Brevyt seemed to understand it without problems. "Have you even heard of an Ysbaat half-breed before? Because I know I haven't. There is a reason for that, any breeding of Ysbaat has always ended up in a pure Ysbaat. Their blood was thought to be unable to be diluted. The exception being this boy and his mother. We failed to locate his mother in time, but stories tell she was a very powerful human. If this one is brought up with other half-breeds, who knows what will happen."  
  
Brevyt sighed deeply. "I can see your point, Aklari, I truly can. But the fact remains; his blood is far to removed for him to be allowed to remain with the clan."  
  
A single tear landed on the sleeping infant's face, causing him to turn in his sleep. Aklari brushed the others away before the managed to fall. She spoke softly, once again in the English tongue. "He is the last of his breed, Brevyt. For that alone the Leaders should grant this one exception." .She paused wiping another tear from her face. "We are as close to kin as he will ever have. And even among us, he will be alone. But within the clan, perhaps he could find somewhere to belong."  
  
The larger being pausing to stretch to his full height, standing at a head taller than the doorway, merely nodded in acquiescence. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try. But I wouldn't get too attached, just incase." He walked out into the middle of the street with Aklari following, child in tow.  
  
The woman stretched for a moment before shedding the cloak, freeing two huge, dark grey, leathery wings. She extended her wings, stretching them after their long confinement. Aklari saw her companion do the same. After a few brief experimental flaps the pair crouched down and leapt skyward, letting their wings catch the night winds.  
  
Aklari glanced down at the bundle in her arms, deciding then to glide as much as possible. She instinctively searched out the thermal pockets, wanting to make the ride as smooth as possible for her precious cargo. 'No way,' she thought to herself, trying her best to protect the child she carried from the cold night winds. 'There is no way that I will let him be raised without the support of a clan.' She had yet to take her eyes off the child. 'You will be home soon little one. Welcome to the Ekrloc dragon clan, hatchling.' 


	2. Life with the clan part 1 Druidism 101

Many thanks to every one that reviewed. I appreciate it more than you know.  
  
---  
  
Six years passed quickly for the young half-breed Harry Potter. He had been accepted into the nomadic Ekrloc clan almost immediately after Aklari had finished the explanation of the situation, with minimal complaints. Aklari took him under her wings and adopted him as her own. One of the first things she managed to teach him were the basics of the English and Draconic languages. By the time he was four he was speaking both as fluently as possible for an intelligent four year old and was able to go and play with the three others near his age.  
  
At age five Harry began his lessons. That was the other thing that Aklari had drilled into his head since an early age. You studied with various members of the clan until you came of age, after that you selected an area or two to specialize in and studied there. And once your education in that was completed you were put to work for the clan.  
  
Early on the clan noticed how odd things happened around Harry and one of the elders recognized the magical talent in him. Harry spent a good deal of his of his time studying under the Elder Repthasth. Repthasth, or Repth as many called him, was the only member of the clan that knew anything about magic. He began teaching Harry the Druidic arts, the form of magic he knew, when Harry was just four years old.  
  
Currently a seven-year-old Harry Potter was sitting inside Repthasth's tent adding a few curves to a design on the paper he was working on. Harry fixed the paper with a glare. The effect was less then helpful, especially since, at the age of seven years old, Harry was far too cute to glare effectively, and his attempt was further marred by the ink splotches he had on his forehead and nose.  
  
Hearing light footsteps heading toward the tent he was occupying Harry stuck his head out through the tent opening to see a tall, dark green clad figure walking tiredly toward the tent. Harry wondered briefly at what could make his usually jubilant master walk so dejectedly. Or his vibrant eyes so dull.  
  
"Master?" The paper clutched in his hand forgotten, something was definitely wrong. "What's going on? Why do you look so sad?"  
  
Repth looked down at his apprentice and smiled weakly. "The runner from the clans far to the north spoke of disturbing news, young one. They spoke of a tainted shadow creeping over the land. Of an evil long forgot regaining power, fusing with an evil thought defeated." Sighing deeply, he moved passed Harry, fully entering hid dwelling. He collapsed onto his favorite chair; one he had coaxed a young oak tree to grow into himself, looking older than Harry had ever seen him. "You remember, of course, what Aklari told you about the human world, and your importance to them?" At Harry's slow nod he continued. "The evil they thought you defeated is regaining strength. He will return, I fear, more powerful then they can imagine."  
  
He turned his weary eyes to the face of his apprentice. "You had said you had finished a project of yours? I could use some good news right now."  
  
Harry looked down at the paper crumpled in his shaking hand. His hand had clenched into an involuntary fist. Being reminded that his parents' murderer was still living, in one sort or another, always provoked a more hostile side of him. Never the less, he unfolded the rumpled paper onto the table before his master. "My Mark master. I've finally completed my Mark."  
  
Repthasth knew of what his apprentice spoke, of course. The Mark that all Half-breeds bare; the Mark of heritage. Each one being completely unique to the wearer, as each person was completely unique unto themselves. Marks were the pride and joy of the barer, some spoke of ancestry, others of spirits of the wild, and others still were unknown to all but their makers. Repth knew how much this meant to his apprentice, he had been working on it for almost a year.  
  
"Well then, let's see it." He said pulling the parchment across the table so he could examine it.  
  
Repth had to admit, it was beautiful. Though it was relatively simple that did not subtract from its appearance, in fact the simplicity gave it an elegant look. Harry had written, in draconic, (their native tongue) an assortment of descriptions about himself tying them in the shape of a triangular Celtic knot type of design. It was fairly easily distinguishable. He could make out the characters describing his name, Isgath'Phyres, chosen by Harry himself only two years ago. His breed was right next to his name, which flowed right into his parents. From his parent's names he had tied in the characters representing his ability to cast magic, very clever seeing as that was where he inherited the talent from. The symbols for his magic then became the emblem for Druidism, the sect of magic he was learning, which he then had tied back to his own name.  
  
"Interesting," Repth mumbled to himself. He noticed, as he inspected the design a second time, that the boy had tied is breed to his mother's name and magic to his father's. He wondered if Harry had done that intentionally or not. "Its very well-designed, Gath. You should wear it proudly. We will discuss when you want the application ceremony to be during our next meeting, which is in a week if I recall."  
  
Harry was practically jumping up and down. Repthasth never called him by his nickname unless he was really pleased with something he had done. Grabbing the design from the table, Harry hastily rolled the parchment up, before quickly bowing to his master and running back out through the tent door.  
  
Shaking his head, Repth squashed the urge to smile at Harry's exuberance. Bringing the papers he had cleared away earlier in the day, Repth's deep frown returned and he started pacing the room. All of the reports still read similarly, no matter how many times he reread them hoping they would change. Something was stirring in the wilds of the north, something that would bring naught but suffering to the world.  
  
***  
  
The sun would be setting soon. That was the first thing Harry noticed as he exited Repthasth's tent. That meant the others would be ending their lessons soon. Drek'Tiloth, Kiath'Sklac, and Kystel'Riv had been his friends for as long as he could remember. Being the only four people in the clan that were under at least thirty human years, they had all stuck together forming their own little group within the clan. Harry headed over to the fire circle that he and his friends usually sat around at night. He could see others forming their own little groups around firepits, and soon, he knew from experience, the night sky would be colored by flame rather than sun.  
  
Living with the clan was tough, but Harry wouldn't have it any other way. The days were tough, spending dawn till dusk training and learning easily wore down the body and mind, especially ones as young as Harry and his friends. But it was fun. well mostly. He never really did enjoy his sessions with Nythyris'Hsk. He just didn't like working with plants. And the Driskorth was far too serious for Harry's tastes. Gardening was all well in good, hey it provided food so Harry would never badmouth it, but he felt it was more of a chore then something that could be done to soothe yourself, as Nyth had so often insisted it could be. She often used her tail, she was one of the few half-breeds in the clan that actually had one, to keep his attention by swishing it back and forth in an agitated manner, for it was an obvious reminder of the reason the humans called her breed Horntail and a symbol of the level of her power.  
  
And he loved Aklari dearly, but could her lessons on culture and history couldn't be any more boring, even if she tried to make it so. Learning with Azjol was fun, the Nhajek half-breed was entertaining. Even though learning languages wasn't exactly fun for Harry, he did see its uses, Ekrloc clan being as nomadic as they are (the clan had moved almost twice a year for as long as Harry could remember). But his lessons with Repthasth'Ysth were by far his favorite. It was said that Harry was Repthasth's first apprentice in over five hundred years. His master was a difficult person to be apprenticed under sometimes, he worked Harry harder then all of his other instructors combined, but it was worth every last drop of blood, sweat, and tears. Learning the Druidic arts was one of the most rewarding things that Harry could ever think of.  
  
Off course Drek could go on and on about his sword fighting lessons, Harry himself wouldn't be allowed to chose specialized lessons to attend for a few years yet, but he doubted that playing with a pointy piece of metal could even come close to the feeling of the sound of the wind howling in your ears, the feeling of the heat of flame flowing through you, the feeling of power as the elements bend to your will. Or at least he assumed that it couldn't, seeing as Harry had nowhere near that kind of power yet. But he had been awed by Repthasth's demonstrations of power in his first days of training, and vowed that one day he would never stop training until he could.  
  
The sun was still a little ways above the horizon when Kiath plopped down onto the ground next to Harry. Kiath was the same age as Harry in human years, and was the only person in the tribe shorter then he was, even Kystel who was a year Harry's junior was taller then he was. Being the same age meant that the pair had most of their lessons together, along with Kystel. Drek, who was three years Harry and Kiath's senior, had already taken those lessons and had his own set he attended.  
  
Kiath flopped backward onto the ground, her shoulder length dark hair fanning out slightly. Her voice was slightly strained when she spoke. "Hey 'Gath, I'm pretty sure tonight's gonna be colder then normal so could you start up the fire earlier tonight?"  
  
Harry quickly squelched the pity he felt for his cold-blooded friend, knowing she wouldn't appreciate it, and forced a mock glare at her. "What am I, your personal fire-starter?" He smiled at her, already standing halfway up. "Give me a minute to gather some wood up; I'll be right back, alright?"  
  
Kiath shivered at breeze only she could feel. "Please hurry. the days are so short now." Sitting back up, she wrapped her arms around herself. "It's been so cold lately."  
  
Harry knelt beside her, hugged her for a second offering what momentary warmth his small body could before standing once more and taking off. "I'll be quick about it." He said as he trotted of toward the woodbin in the north end of the camp.  
  
Gathering wood was never a big deal. It rotated every third day who had to fill the been and yesterday had been Drek and his turn to chop and stock, so he had no problem getting choice pieces of wood for a fire. Picking up as much wood as he could carry Harry staggered back to the fire circle. He dumped the wood next to the circle of stones and had moved to place a few pieces inside the circle before realizing that there was already a small pile of wood there.  
  
Confused he looked up at Kiath. Arms still clutching her sides, she smiled faintly and mouthed the word 'sorry' to him before flicking her eyes to Harry's right side. Turning he found a grinning Kystel looking back at him. Shrugging his shoulders moved over to where Kiath was sitting and plopped down next to her. "I guess we'll have a big fire tonight." He said looking over to where Kystel had sat down on Kiath's other side. "Do you want to wait for Drek? Or would you rather have a fire right now?"  
  
Kiath looked over to the western horizon at the sun that was now rapidly sinking into the horizon. "Now would be nice, please."  
  
Harry nodded and moved his gaze back to the woodpile in the middle of the circle of stones. His face scrunched up in concentration. Harry glared at the wood as hard as he could. He could see the flame flicker, feel the heat rolling off fire in waves, hear the crackle as the wood burned; now all he had to do was will it into existence. Harry was so wrapped up in his new 'mission' he didn't even notice when Aklari, his surrogate mother, stopped by to ask how they were doing. Nor did he notice the fit of giggles the other two women she was with burst into when Aklari commented on how cute he looked with his nose scrunched up like that before moving to their own circle.  
  
The sweat that had started beading up on his for head dripped down into his eyes causing him to flinch from the sting. Slowly Harry raised his hand and swiped the sweat from his eyes and brow, still focusing only on a single point on the woodpile. Then suddenly there was a spark within the pile and the wood erupted into a blaze.  
  
Harry was panting heavily by the time he had finished. Blinking his eyes, Harry turned away from the fire hoping to get the spots to leave his vision. As he turned he noticed Drek was sitting beside him now. He turned back to where Kiath and Kystel were sitting, his voice strained. "How long was it this time?"  
  
Kiath scooted closer to the fire. "About ten minutes or so. You're getting faster."  
  
"Really? That's good. And I'm not even that dizzy this time." Harry smiled wearily, eyes still unfocused. "Well. not too much."  
  
Drek guffawed loudly and clapped Harry on the back. "Wasn't it just a week ago that you asked me to tell the sky it wasn't supposed to be under you?"  
  
Harry felt his blood rush to his cheeks. He picked at a clump of grass mumbling. "How was I supposed to know I was lying down?"  
  
The girls stifled their laughter at Harry's pseudo-morose tone. He tried to hold his own smile in check but failed miserably as Kystel couldn't hold in her laughter any longer and burst into a fit of hysterics before resuming her conversation with Kiath. Shaking his head, Harry left the girls to their discussion and stared into the flame he had created. Drek imitated Harry's actions for a few minutes before speaking. "Ugth told me that we'll be moving again soon."  
  
Harry, startled, jumped at his voice. It took him a moment before what Drek said sunk in. It wasn't too surprising, they were after all a nomadic tribe, but the move was usually announced before hand so there could be a vote on where to head. "Did he tell you when we'd be leaving?"  
  
Drek shook his head. "No, he had just come from a meeting with Repthasth they hadn't worked out the details yet. All they told me that is we're headed south."  
  
"Weird," Harry said as her returned his gaze to the flames. Harry wondered about it for a few moments. "It must have something to do with the evil Repth said was regaining strength in the north." But why flee? I don't understand.  
  
"Oh? I thought you already had your lessons with him earlier in the week." Drek spared a sideways glance toward his young friend.  
  
"I did. But I went to show him my Mark." Harry smiled faintly. "He seemed to like it too."  
  
Drek looked at Harry as if he though Harry had just sprouted horns. "Of course he liked it! I just wish I had thought of what you did."  
  
Harry just shook his head. Drek's design was far better then his, in Harry's opinion, but to avoid an argument he just kept that thought to himself. As the night wore on the other fires had started to die down and other members of the clan had begun to drift off to their respective tents, yet the four friends fire blazed still, from both the extra wood and Harry's gentle yet constant administrations.  
  
Harry felt a heavy hand drop onto his shoulder suddenly. He turned his head looking curiously at Drek and saw that he was pointing to a point on the other side of the fire. Following Drek's finger, Harry noticed Aklari standing a few meters away. She was rocking onto the balls of her feet in impatience.  
  
Sighing Harry slowly stood, stretching as he did so. "Sorry guys but Aklari is already fidgeting."  
  
Drek snorted and muttered under his breath. "She's always twitchy about something."  
  
Kystel and Kiath tried to hide their amusement but were rapidly losing their battle to keep a straight face. Harry felt indignation quickly build up within him on his mother's behalf. Seeing the familiar blaze light up Harry's eyes, and the flame beside them acting in kind, nearly doubling in intensity, Drek quickly put up his hands in a passive maneuver. "Easy 'Gath, easy. You know I'm kidding."  
  
The fire left Harry's eyes and the fire had burned into nothing but ashes. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He managed to murmur a quick "Sorry," before he stumbled over to Aklari, drained of all energy. He barely caught Kiath's quiet thank you as he staggered by her. As he nearly collapsed into his mother's arms he did miss Drek's rueful shake of his head, quiet chuckle and whispered. "It's scary how alike they are. At times he can be almost as twitchy as she is."  
  
Harry accepted his adopted mother's steadying arm, not even trying to complain about not needing her help, fearing he would even have the energy to complete the sentence. Aklari, for her part, led Harry to their tent in relative silence until they were within the rather large makeshift dwelling. Harry had barely made it passed the leather screen separating Aklari's side from his before he collapsed heavily onto the ground; Aklari's arms the only thing keeping his head from the ground.  
  
She sighed, her eyes shined, like they had the beginnings of tears in them. "'Gath," she began. "You have to stop doing this. You're going to burn out, if you keep this up."  
  
"But mum," Harry could only quietly protest. "You know Kiath is cold blooded. All the Elders say she needs as much heat as possible. I'm just trying to help her."  
  
"I know, Jsyik'Dislari, I know. But for all the good you are probably doing her, you're doing far worse to yourself." Harry only half heard what she had said though, as he was already falling into a deep sleep.  
  
***  
  
In the days that followed the clan's elders held several meetings. No matter how much eavesdropping that Harry and his friends had tried to do they could not gather any information about what they were discussing. Only one bit of information was allowed to circle the firepits: that the clan needed to head south, because of something that was happening in the countries to the north, and they needed to leave soon.  
  
Harry was currently sitting in Repthasth's tent waiting for the man to return for the current meeting. Harry's eyes darted back and for across the room. The Elder's tent had always fascinated Harry. With all the oddities that somehow made their way here Harry couldn't quite decide if it was more of a treasure trove or a junk shop.  
  
The sound of footsteps drawing closer pulled Harry away form his appraisal of an especially interesting horned skull belonging to a creature the likes of which he had never seen. Repthasth strode into the tent with a small smile on his face. "Alright, Isgath," He began, sitting down behind his table as he did so; he lifted a small sack from his side and placed it on the tabletop. "Now let us talk about your Mark. You know the process right?" At Harry's response in the negative, Repth explained. "The Marking Ritual does not commence until the thirteenth anniversary of the subject's birth. Until that time you bare the symbol on the back of one of your hand, as well its palm. There are several styles of ritual but those are not discussed until the a few days before the commencement of the Ritual."  
  
Harry nodded, before asking. "But then when do I mark my hand?"  
  
Reaching into the bag Repth pulled out seven small ceramic jars, no bigger than Harry's own fist, placing them in a row in front of Harry. "There are several different colors and types of pigments to use. Unfortunately we do not have the time to teach you to make your own, so you're going to have to use one of these."  
  
Harry examined the dyes for a moment before selecting the deep red pigment. Tracing the design on his hand only took him a moment. After he had finished Repth warmed the air around Harry's hand drying the pigment in seconds.  
  
"Now," Repth put away the pigments as he spoke. "With that out of the way, we can get to work. We don't have time to go into anything new right now. All of council members have finally agreed as to where we should go, so the clan is packing up tonight and we are heading out tomorrow morning, at first light." He leaned across the table, toward Harry. Lowering his voice he whispered in mock secrecy. "You wouldn't tell anyone if we just relaxed just this one time then?" Harry shook his head in a vigorous 'no'. "Good, good. The morning comes too quickly to this old man." Repth winked at him.  
  
The pair sat in comfortable silence for a while. Neither paying much attention to the room surrounding them. Repth had sent his mind out on the winds surveying the surrounding countryside. Harry had tried to follow what his master was doing, but his range paled in comparison to his masters, and was quickly left behind.  
  
The sun was high overhead when Harry finally returned to his body. He glanced at the older half-breed for a moment before he stood up to leave the tent. Harry knew his master would not return to his body for a long time. As he was passing through the tent flap, he heard his master call after him. "We're headed for Egypt, Isgath. I'm sure you'd like to share that with Kiath; hopefully the climate down there will be good for her.. Oh and do tell Azjol as well. I don't know if he's heard yet, but I'm sure he would like to know we are returning to his homeland."  
  
Harry turned to reply, but the vacant look was already back on his masters face, signifying he was back with his head in the clouds. 


	3. Life with the clan part 2 Art of the Hun...

Disclaimer: *looks around* Nope, no hordes of money that I'm currently bathing in so I guess I don't own Harry Potter. I do own the characters I created though.  
  
A/N it shames me to note that I failed to address a question a reviewer presented to me. It was Bladen I believe that asked if half breeds are like Gargoyles in size and shape. At the time I hadn't even thought about that but in retrospect the answer to that would be both yes and no. Brevyt for one is huge, and looks much like a gargoyle, yet others are quite small. It all depends on the breed they descend from. Harry for one is the size of a normal human, oh and in case I didn't make it clear he is also wingless.  
  
This chapter didn't come out exactly like I planned, but I hope ya'll enjoy it!  
  
Anyway many thanks to all who reviewed, and now on with the show!  
  
Crouching low to the ground, raven hair cascading down around his face, Harry sniffed the air. He was gaining ground quickly. He weaved swiftly through the jungle trees keeping as much in the shadows as possible. While he had enjoyed his time in Egypt nearly a year ago, Harry loved the clan's new jungle home even more. Ever since he began his specialized lessons in what his instructors called the 'Art of the Hunt' Harry had developed a deep appreciation for forests and the like. Stalking a quarry was much easier when we had trees and undershrubs to aid him in hunting. Not to mention how much easier it is to avoid the Hunting masters that were tracking him. It would have been even easier but as this was a test of sorts he was forbidden to use his magic at this time.  
  
Extending his talons, Harry climbed up the trunk of a nearby teak tree and perched himself on a precarious branch high in the canopy. Harry had found out he was one of the half breeds that could switch back and forth between human hands and talons during one of his first practice hunting missions, when he had stumbled across a rather nasty warthog. He had received several nasty gashes from the warthogs tusk for his trouble; and the gouge the warthog had left on Harry's right side was now a permanent scar to add to his collection. If Harry hadn't been bleeding so badly when he had finally stumbled back into camp he would have rather enjoyed the shocked expressions his friends had worn at the sight of him and the huge hog he was dragging into camp.  
  
He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as he neared his quarry. Brevyt was far too large and heavy to maneuver effectively in this environment. Harry could hear him running up ahead of him quite clearly even from his high perch.  
  
Feeling the winds brush his face his bright green eyes snapped open. The winds had changed. 'So not good . . . . So very not of the good.' Harry thought to himself. He turned back toward the direction the winds were blowing. The wind was carrying his scent right to his pursuers. Only the lessons on the necessity of silence his teachers had drilled into his head stopped him from cursing. He needed to move, and he needed to move now.  
  
Harry slid down the trunk of the tree, his talons scraping deeply into the tree's bark. He came to a stop halfway down the tree. Bracing his legs against the trunk, he launched himself toward a tree four meters away. Meeting the trunk a bit rougher than he would have liked, and far louder than preferable, Harry, disoriented, fell into a momentary free fall; regaining his senses Harry dug his claws deeply into the wood stopping himself a mere two meters from the ground, and waited a moment to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him.  
  
After he had caught his breath Harry quickly dropped the remaining distance to the ground Harry glanced around, trying to see if he could spot either his quarry or his pursuers. Seeing neither, Harry sped toward where he had last heard Brevyt stomping around. The time for caution was gone; he could almost sense the other masters nearing by the moment. Harry darted around a patch of thick undergrowth. Making a mad dash was a serious gamble; Harry had been caught almost every time he had made one.  
  
Breaking through an area of brushwood Harry found himself by what appeared to be a small lake, its water like blue crystal, lapping gently at the shoreline. He paused at the sight, for the lake was both a blessing and at the same time a horrible curse. If he took a quick swim he could easily eliminate his scent trail, but the same could be said for Brevyt, and he was far more adapt for water excursions than Harry was. Harry cursed inwardly, 'Odds are he's still down there, too. Just waiting and hiding. Stupid jerk.' Harry sighed deeply. He was about to move to the shoreline when he felt a blade pressed against his neck.  
  
"You hesitate far too long, my young friend." A silky voice whispered from behind him. He felt the breath of the speaker tickle his ear as it whispered. "He who hesitates is lost."  
  
Harry felt the blade lift from his neck. Turning, he came face to face with Nhriul, the Scirthgras huntress. Harry met her unblinking eyes for but a moment before moving back to stare at the lake. "When I saw the water I knew I had lost." He shook his head trying very hard not to get upset at his failure. "Brevyt is of the Vahweh after all, the water is his domain." He turned back to Nhriul.  
  
She was sheathing her dagger, staring out at the lake, an introspective look about her. Harry saw her blink several times, as if trying to clear something out of her head, before turning to him. "Shall we head back then?"  
  
Harry nodded and the pair started walking back through the jungle toward the camp. Harry's eyes darted around the jungle surrounding them, puzzled. "Wasn't Ekdas with you?"  
  
Nhriul smiled at Harry, revealing very sharp, very deadly teeth. "You lost him a long time ago, 'Gath. I figure he's back at camp moping right now."  
  
Harry frowned momentarily. Normally he would be pleased to have lost one of his trackers, but this was a test. Both tracking Hunters usually work together on tests. To lose one and not the other meant they were not working together. Then it clicked in Harry's mind, it was blindingly obvious, it was probably for the same reason most clan members avoided making Nhriul angry, or just avoided her altogether. The poison of her breed was legend. The bite of a full Scirthgras was said to be one of the five deadliest toxins in existence.  
  
But normally she and Ekdas got along well enough... that could only mean... "You and Ek' arguing again?"  
  
Nhriul smiled kindly at Harry while ruffling his shoulder length hair. "Not really. I just fake-snapped at him a few times last night and he got this scared look on his face and almost ran back to his tent." She paused for a moment before looking to Harry. "Come on 'Gath, vamanos."  
  
Harry was content to let silence lapse as fell into pace with Nhriul walking just behind her. They traveled the rest of the way to the camp in that same silence, neither caring to break it.  
  
Nhriul was fairly new to the Elrkoc clan having just met up with them in their year long excursion in Egypt. There was a reason half breeds did not change clans easily, though. It is rather hard to just walk into a clan that's been with the same people for in some cases several centuries and just make yourself a place within the clan. The only reason Nhriul was so readily accepted was because the clan was very short on hunters, and she was a damn good one.  
  
They had reached the outskirts of the encampment when Nhriul stopped suddenly. Still facing away from Harry she spoke to him, he voice soft on the wind. "You are the only one who has watched me smile and not flinched away, Isgath." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Thank you." She walked toward her tent without saying another word.  
  
Smiling sadly at retreating figure of the only adult besides his teachers that he could call a friend. "It's not that they don't trust you, Nhriul. But when fear is so deeply engrained into a body, it's almost impossible to resist." He said under his breath, twisting the air with his mind, he let his message be carried to the retreating figure on the wind.  
  
The silhouette of Nhriul stumbled, before continuing on, her hand rose above her head waving in gratitude.  
  
Harry trotted over in the direction of the warrior's arena, hoping that Drek and Kystel were still there. He waved to a few clan members as he jogged past them. He stopped just short of the training ring. Two adults Harry didn't know were dueling in the ring. Both were fairly good from what he could tell, though the larger, axe wielding Gestevia seemed to have the advantage. Granted he didn't really have any comparison, he made even Kiath look like a professional with a blade. Seeing said Rigaalt half- breed on the other side of the ring Harry made his way around and pulled up beside her. Kiath acknowledged his presence with a warm smile, but remained silent, waiting for the sparing match to end.  
  
The arena was sort of a misleading name. It wasn't so much as an arena as it was a series of barrack-like tents housing the warrior caste of the clan, with a training ring as the center. The ring itself was just a circle of rocks on the ground.  
  
A sharp clang brought his attention back to the match before him. He managed to turn back in time to see an axe go flying through the air. Harry snorted. "Shows how much I know."  
  
Kiath glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a small smirk playing at her lips. Kiath turned facing Harry full on. "You're back pretty early. What happened?"  
  
"Brevyt went straight for the water. I didn't realize it until it was too late. Nhriul caught me on the shoreline." He watched as two females walked into the center of the ring and bowed to each other. "When are they gonna practice?" He finally asked, after watching the two women circle each other for awhile.  
  
"Drek and Kystel already had their go, oh, about an hour ago now. Drek won of course. Kystel is getting better, but I think she is realizing that weapons just aren't for her."  
  
Harry looked up at the sky, the sun blazing directly overhead. "I wonder what she'll try next then . . . ." A frown flitted across Harry's face for a moment. "I suppose she could always apprentice with Nythyris . . . ." He shuddered, mumbling under his breath, "But ewwww."  
  
Harry heard Kiath snickering beside him. Pulling his eyes from the sky above them, he turned and looked at his friend. "What?"  
  
Kiath tried to school her face, but failed. Grinning at Harry she just shook her head as she walked away from the training ring and toward the center of camp, where the meeting grounds were. Harry stood still from a moment, puzzled, before jogging after her. Drawing up beside her he asked, "Well?"  
  
"I just find it kinda funny that for someone who has killed animals and has come back to camp almost covered in their blood is so squeamish about digging in dirt."  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed and Kiath took that as her signal to start running. She had trouble running as she was laughing so hard, after Harry had called after her in an attempt at sounding disgruntled. "Hey you come back here and take that back! I'm soooo not squeamish! It's just too boring!"  
  
The pair darted in and out between the few adults that were walking around. Kiath had glanced back to try and judge how far back Harry was when she collided with something rather solid . . . . and wet. She turned back around, only to see, with no small amount of embarrassment, that she had run into a very damp Brevyt. She quickly took a few steps back. She craned her neck looking for Harry, wondering why he hadn't collided with her as well, only to see Harry floating upside-down about a half meter above the ground an unnatural wind whipping about his body, with Repthasth standing just a little ways behind him, an small smile upon his lips.  
  
Brevyt patted Kiath gently on the head, before facing the now spinning Harry. "You were supposed to go straight to Repth when you were finished with the test, Isgath."  
  
Harry tried not to blush, not realizing that he was already red as an apple from his time upside-down. He scratched the back of his head, "Heh, heh, whoops?"  
  
A cold wind picked up suddenly and Harry was twirled around. He now hovered upside-down and eye to eye with the Druidic Master. "Whoops indeed. You do realize what this carelessness of yours means, correct?" Harry's eyes widened. "Indeed, we shall run fire drills until our lesson time is done."  
  
Harry sighed. For some reason, in all of his drills over the years he trained with Repthasth, using fire in any way, shape or form was most times at least twice as exhausting as any of the other branches of druidic magics. And over time it almost seemed to become harder, and harder. It was frustrating to say the least.  
  
Repth righted and set the boy down and the pair walked over to Repth's tent on the far north end of the encampment. They walked in relative silence, broken only by Repth's asking of how his field test had faired, and his response.  
  
Upon entering the familiar tent Harry took his usual seat on the right hand side by the bookshelf. Repth paced the room twice before finally sitting down behind the table, and looking at Harry. He looked far more serious than Harry had ever seen him. "Isgath'Phyres of the Ysbaat breed," His heavy tone match the seriousness of his expression. "Before we begin, I believe it's time I shared with you a few things.  
  
"I'm sure I don't have to repeat most of your history in the human world, but I suppose I should clarify a few things before I explain every thing that's going on. There have been many theories on why you survived what no other has, youngling. The other elders have come up with several ideas, but none so far have even approached the truth. The Ysbaat breed of Dragons is one of the most enigmatic breeds of dragons, even to we half- breeds. Second only to the Gysaal. Both of which have been hunted to extinction by humans. That is one of the reasons why you were so readily accepted into the clan. You are the very last of your kind."  
  
Harry's eyes had almost tripled in size by this point. He began to tremble as the reality of what Repthasth had said sunk in. . . . 'I'm the last?' He shook his head roughly trying to clear his thoughts.  
  
While he cleared his mind Repth merely plowed forward. "We believe that had something to do with your survival." At Harry's baffled look, he quickly clarified himself. "Not that you're the last of your breed, no, the fact that you are an Ysbaat. The Ysbaat were hunted for several reasons, one of which being their hide was rumored to actually reflect magic, not just absorb some of it. This has never been confirmed but the same rumor is in every different half-breed clan mythos, and because that particular piece of information is so wide spread, we believe it has to have some basis in fact. Even though your blood is a bit to removed for the theory to be proved or disproved, the other elders and I believe that some how your mother sacrificed herself for you and that the stronger dragon blood in her somehow bestowed a little bit of added protection."  
  
Harry blinked rapidly. Repth reached around for something on the floor while trying to keep his eyes on Harry. Harry seemed to be accepting everything alright, well except the whole blinking thing, he really needed to stop that, it was freaky. Finding a group of loose leaf papers he set them on the table. "I was recently contacted in a most unusual manner by a human by the name of Albus Dumbledore. He apparently is a very important human in the wizarding world-"  
  
"Wait. . . . Wizarding world? What are you talking about?"  
  
"You don't know? I guess Aklari hasn't gotten to that yet. The wizarding world is a story for another time, so you'll just have to be patient." Repth was grinning at Harry; he knew very well just how impatient Harry could be at times. "Anyway this man, Dumbledore, runs a school for magic. And apparently that's where your mother and father learned their magic-  
  
"Are you serious? An entire school devoted to teaching magic? And what do you mean their magic? Are you saying that there is more than one type of magic?"  
  
Repth gave his apprentice a withering glare. "How many times, Isgath, have I told you that Druidism is not the only form that magic takes? One would think I would have beaten it into your head by now. Now please, no more interruptions I'll answer questions later." Harry managed not to flush too badly. "As I was saying, this Dumbledore taught your parents, and has been in correspondence with me about how your doing. He seems impressed with your progress in the druidic arts. He has requested, though, that at the time of the eleventh anniversary of your birth, you be permitted to attend his school residing somewhere in Europe. Seeing as you're almost ten, I'd thought I should get your feelings on the matter." Harry was about to reply when Repth waved his hand briefly. "Two things, the school is completely human, so you won't have any other non-humans with you. If you tell people of your heritage . . . . well let's just say wizarding folk aren't always the most open-minded of people. Second, you live at the school for the duration of the school year; they study there for seven years, with breaks between the school years."  
  
Harry wasn't too pleased to hear that bit of news. He really didn't want to leave everyone at in clan, even if it was only for brief periods at a time. But still, the chance to learn another form of magic was far too good of an opportunity to dismiss so frivolously. It was only seven years, which, in the long run, was nothing to a species considered being one hundred being barely into adulthood. 'Granted,' Harry thought. 'I'll won't be able to see my friends and mother . . . . but I love the feeling magic gives me. I'll try it for a few years, and see what it's like.'  
  
He looked up into Repth's face, wondering what the old man thought about it, before speaking. "I think I'd like to at least try it for a few years, and see what it's like."  
  
Repth nodded, smiling gently. "You have made a mature decision, youngling. I think you will enjoy the school. It's called Hogwarts. I studied druidism there in my youth, along time ago. Though, I imagine it has changed greatly in nine hundred years." Repth slowly stood from his chair and moved to exit the tent, gesturing as he did so for Harry to follow him. Harry followed him outside, curious as to what he was planning. The pair moved away from the cluster of tents and into a flat area just on the outside of the encampment.  
  
Repth studied the clearing a moment. Apparently he came to a decision about whatever he had been thinking, because he raised his hand and drew several arcane-looking symbols in the air in front of him.  
  
The sky above them darkened, Harry could see that the sky over their home was still as blue as ever so whatever Repth had done probably caused this. Harry felt the hair on his neck raise. Looking once more to the dark sky, he just had enough time to cover his eyes as fire rained from the sky. Falling in blazing streaks the fire scorched the land before the pair. Trying to ignore the intense heat pouring off the land, Harry stared at Repth, trying to figure out just what he was doing and why. Harry could make out a pair of runes etched into the air in front of Repth, but he couldn't decipher them. He was forced to look away when another wave of fire poured from the sky.  
  
Repth, for his part, was busy using his will to confine the area the fire pelted. His magic forming a shield in a circle around the area the fire fell, preventing it from spreading. After a third wave Harry noticed Repth making a few adjustments to the hovering marks, and the sky immediately returned to normal and the flames extinguished themselves. All that was left was a shimmering barrier surrounding blackened ground. The barrier dissipated and Repthasth walked to the middle of the scorched ring and faced Harry.  
  
"Come on, with the ground burned this way it is safer for you to experiment with fire. In order to find out why your skills are diminishing I'll need to see you go all out, and if you lose control we don't want the camp endangered now, do we?" Harry shook his head in the negative. "Go ahead and summon as much free fire as you can."  
  
Harry sat down on the charred ground and held his hands before him, touching his fingertips together, forming a loose circle with his hands. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes began to burn. Slowly, almost reluctantly, a bead of fire formed between his hands. His arms began trembling heavily, as if under some massive strain. The bead of fire grew sluggishly into a ball the size of Harry's fist. While invisible knives seemed to stab at Harry's eyes, the throbbing in his head was in tune with his accelerating heartbeat.  
  
Abruptly, the ball of fire Harry had been struggling to maintain churned violently. 'Oh bugger.' Harry was practically screaming on the inside. 'I can't control it!' Cold and wetness flooded over Harry as he was knocked to the ground by a wave of icy water that Repth had conjured.  
  
After what Harry swore was him coughing up a lung, he managed to sit up, and gazed up at Repth. He managed to mumble a soft 'thank you' while he struggled to his feat, before collapsing back down to his knees. Had Repth not done what he had Harry would not have hands any more.  
  
Repth offered his hand, which Harry accepted. Pulling Harry up, Repth led him back to his tent. The pair made their way slowly, as Harry stumbled several times. Upon entering the tent Harry collapsed onto his chair. All he wanted to do was sleep.  
  
Sitting on the edge of the table, Repth watched his apprentice for a few moments. "Well Isgath, I think it is save to say that you will not be practicing with fire any more. Though why your skills diminished to such a point is truly a mystery." He shook his head briefly as he grabbed some paper and a quill. After jotting down a few quick notes he looked back at his exhausted pupil. Standing up, he picked up the tired boy and set him down on his bed, on the far side of the tent. "Now sleep, Isgath. You need it." Harry tried to protest, but Repth's voice picked up a distinct misty quality. "Sleep."  
  
Harry's vision slowly faded to black, and he fell in to a dreamless sleep.  
  
*********  
  
Dusk was approaching when Harry finally woke up. Feeling refreshed he looked around to see if Repth was nearby. Seeing no one he left the tent to head for the fire pits.  
  
Harry was walking through the meeting grounds when he saw Drek stoking a fire on the far side. Drek must have noticed him as well, because he was waving Harry over. Harry trotted over to where Drek was sitting, and plopped down beside him.  
  
The pair sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry felt the need to speak. "I can't help with the fires anymore, Drek."  
  
Drek glanced at his friend, worried. He knew Harry was having problems with fire manipulation; he had to seeing as Harry complained about it at least every other day, but his sudden lack of ability was startling. "What happened, 'Gath?"  
  
Harry swallowed a bitter laugh. "We don't know. But after almost losing my hands when I lost control, Repth suggest we stop practicing fire all together. I can't say as I disagree. I can't help but feel like I've failed somehow though."  
  
Harry felt Drek squeeze his shoulder briefly. "I doubt that you failed at anything. Your loss of ability was beyond your control."  
  
He knew that Drek was trying to be comforting but that was what hurt the most. He didn't lose his power, it was stolen from him. "At least here the nights aren't so bad for Kiath. I hope she'll be alright. . . ."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Drek asked. His confusion was evident in his voice.  
  
Harry just shook his head and said, "Later, I want to break it to everyone at the same time."  
  
A tense silence fell over the duo as they waited for the remaining members of their group to show up. Harry could tell Drek wanted to throttle him until he told him whatever it was he had to say. That's just the way that Drek was, he didn't like being kept in the dark one bit.  
  
Harry was suddenly tackled by a blur of blonde and green. As his eyes came back into focus he saw a pouting Kystel sitting on his chest. "You didn't come and see my match today, Isgath'Phyres." She said, her pout quickly turning into an attempt at a stern expression. "Now you must pay the price." Reaching to his sides, she began tickling him relentlessly.  
  
Helpless against the attack all Harry could do was laugh uncontrollably. Gasping for breath as he tried to roll away from his assailant, he managed to wheeze out, "Drek . . . help . . . hahahaha . . . . Noooo! Please stop! hahahahaha Dreeeeek!"  
  
The half breed in question was currently rolling on the ground in hysterics. "No way 'Gath. You refuse to tell, I refuse to help." That made Kystel pause long enough for Harry to squirm free. He was panting hard and his arms were barely supporting him from his position on the ground.  
  
Kiath's appearance behind Harry stalled the inevitable questions from Kystel. Once Kiath had sat down beside Harry, Drek wasted no time. "Alright, 'Gath now what's up?"  
  
Harry sat up straight, and began explaining what happened with Repth in the newly charred circle, only leaving out that Repth had summoned the fire with some sort of runes. His friends were, of course, sympathetic to his loss of control, but that did not lessen the hurt of his perceived failure. He took a deep breath. This part would be the most difficult; he did not know how his imminent departure would affect his friends. Explaining the situation as quickly as possible, he waited for their reactions. Harry wasn't sure what to expect, maybe several never before heard swear words from Kiath, reluctant acceptance from the others, but the soft hands on his shoulders, and the tears in Kiath and Kystel's eyes he never would have expected. Drek was staring at him agape. Kiath smiled through the tears and spoke softly, "It's only a few years right? Then you'll be back to us?"  
  
Harry nodded. "And it's not even for the entire year. I'll be back for at least the summer months for sure." He gasped as Kystel kicked his shin.  
  
"You better!" She cried. "And you had better write us, too. Repth said he was writing to that Dumbledore guy, so you have no excuse not too!"  
  
Grabbing their hands he pulled the two girls into a hug, whispering into their ears. "Thank you both, you lot mean so much to me." He glanced over to where he could tell Drek was trying to remain dry eyed. He walked over to him and pulled him into another hug. "I'll miss you to 'big bro'."  
  
Drek almost broke down at that point. "Damn it man, your not even leaving for a year, and already I'm about to bawl like a baby." He sniffed audibly. "We'll make this year count, neh?"  
  
Harry smiled and nodded into Drek's shoulder. "Neh."  
  
Drek gave a weak laugh. "Alright mushiness time is over. Get off me before I blow my nose on your shirt."  
  
Laughing Harry did what he was asked. Returning to his seat before the fire, something crossed his mind that he had failed to realize before. "So. . . . Does anyone want to tell Aklari for me?"  
  
The other three just collapsed into fits of laughter at the shear amount of pleading in his voice. Yes their friend was leaving, but not yet, and most definitely not forever.  
  
____________  
  
I'm actually a bit worried about this chapter. As I said it didn't come out as I had originally planned, and I don't know how you'll like it *coughreviewpleacough*. Anyway next chapter will be a few months before he goes to Hogwarts, and as of right now he's going to meet someone a bit ahead of schedule. Sorry if anyone was really looking forward to Harry being in Egypt, but I know nothing about it. I will be doing a flashback sequence to it . . . . maybe in the next chapter.  
  
A quick question, all the dragons, that the humans know of (there are several that they don't) have their true Draconic names which I created, seeing as how I will refer to them by the draconic names mostly, would you all like me to post the names and who it refers too? Could it just be at the top of the next chapter, or would you prefer a separate chapter for easy reference?  
  
Oh and how about a translation guide, for the few phrase I've tossed in and some of the names?  
  
Sorry one last thing, is that enough space between paragraphs? I could put more if you want. 


	4. An Interlude of Evil!

Hello all! This is the author speaking. I'm terribly sorry for the horrendous wait. I have a multitude of excuses, varying from bedridden by sickness to death in the family. I know excuses aren't new chapters and I am sorry. And on top of that its a interlude and not a chapter. But do not fear, I'm already well over half done with the next real chapter and I should have that up in a few days.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. You guys are should get a medal!

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Darkness swirled within darkness and was gone.

"Who's there?" A strong masculine voice echoed thru the surrounding forest. The man stumbled for what had to be the thousandth time in the dark. "Curse this thrice be damned forest. Curse this whole bloody country! 'Vampires stalk the villages on the outskirts of the black forest,' they said. Bollocks! Vampires have more taste than to live in this wretched place."

Several wolf howls pierced the silent night air. The man glanced up at the sky and seeing the full moon nestled high in the night sky, he snorted. "Now, werewolves, that I'd believe. Bloody creatures have no sense of class."

A faint hissing noise rose up amidst the wolf howls, seemingly coming from every-which direction. Swiftly he drew his wand, while simultaneously pulling his dragon-hide cloak tightly around him, leaving only his wand hand and part of his face open. "Now, now then. That doesn't sound like a normal beastie." The hissing grew louder. "Hmm, not a friendly type are you, love?"

A thunderous crashing echoed in the dark. A cold smile crossed his lips. "A big one, ain't cha?" He pressed a long, thin finger to his lips, in thought. "You can't be dragon, environment s'not quite right. Are you a Naga perhaps? Or maybe . . . a Basilisk?" He seemed almost giddy at the last prospect. He shook his head, snapping himself back to the task at hand; he had a creature to hunt.

The hissing was suddenly replaced with a guttural, rasping voice. "Quirrell."

Quirrell whipped around and fell into a standard dueling position. "A Naga then. Come on out, love. Don't pay this little ol' wizard any mind."

A wheezing laugh drifted hauntingly out of the forest. "Close, Quirrell. But we are not of the Naga." A form that was little more then wisps of smoke and vapor. But a form that had a very recognizable face.

He stumbled back, and fell to the ground. "You!" Quirrell pointed at the spectre with a shaky finger. "You're supposed to be dead. The Potter boy killed you!"

Voldemort snarled and lashed out at the trembling Quirrell. The shadows of the forest thrashed over Quirrell's body, leaving slashes all over his clothes and flesh. The spirit approached the trembling, and now bleeding, Quirrell. Voldemort forced his anger down before speaking. "You know, we could make you great Quirrell. You would never want for anything. All you ever dreamed of; power, wealth, respect, it's all within your reach. And all you need to do is lend us your body."

Quirrell shakily spat out the blood that was welling up in his mouth. His body was still wobbly from the attack, but his resolve was not so easily shaken. Flipping Voldemort the bird, he answered in an unsteady voice. "Piss off!" Quirrell knew it would probably end up being painful but he had to add on last dig anyway. "A boy barely a year of age defeated you not ten years ago, what power could you possibly have, let alone to offer me."

The ethereal eyes of Voldemort glowed a bright red that burned at Quirrell's very soul, an image that would be imprinted in his mind for many nights to come. All Quirrell knew after that was pain. For how long he didn't know, all he could grasp was that his bones were on fire. When unconsciousness finally came to claim him all Quirrell could do was weep.

Quirrell's eyes fluttered as sunlight pierced the forest canopy and shined down on his face. Groaning in pain as consciousness slowly returned to him, he once again he tested the bonds that held his hands an feet in place, a useless gesture he knew, but he still had to try. It had been days since his capture by Voldemort. Quirrell's waking hours were few and far between thanks to Voldemort's tender administrations.

Quirrell felt the tears gathering in his eyes already. His will had been washed away in the floods of pain, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he cracked. And so did Voldemort.

The ground around him rustled violently. As one the dozen or so snakes that had been his guards for the last days raised there heads and hissed in what Quirrell assumed was some kind of greeting. The shadow form of Voldemort waved his hand and the serpents retreated back in to the forests.

"Come now, my dear Quirrell. Is this really necessary?" Voldemort asked in what was supposed to be a sweet, kindly voice. "It's not even a permanent possession. I'll only need your body till I can find a way to create my own again."

Quirrell slowly tried to move into a sitting position; half way up blood welled up in his mouth and sent him into a coughing fit. He forwent trying to speak, knowing his throat was still to raw, and glared at Voldemort. His glare managed to last until the second wave of shadows converged over his body.

* * *

-Sigh- Disapointing I'm sure, but it is something is it not? Anyway I'll have the next chapter up soon.

Oh and by the way, does anyone know why I can't have indented paragraphs? Or asterisks?


	5. Dragons and Breeds and Words, oh my!

Sorry people, but it's not a new chapter. Just the translations I promised.  
  
This is what I have so far, that wouldn't take away from the plot that is. Oh and all the information about the dragons that Rowling created I got from the HP Lexicon, though I did call in some artistic liberties and made a few slight changes and added little bits here and there. I'll be working on going more in-depth in my spare time.  
  
I've tried to upload this several times, and each time there aren't spaces between sections. I don't know why its not working right but here you go, I just hope it's legible.  
  
Dragon types:  
  
Livkadian - unknown to humans  
  
Rigaalt - unknown to humans  
  
Ysbaat - unknown to humans  
  
Gysaal - unknown to humans  
  
Vahweh - Previously unknown to humans  
  
Korrin'Tor - Most powerful of dragons (only three exist) More of a title then race  
  
Opesic - Previously unknown to humans  
  
Nhajek - unknown to humans  
  
Lorbaok - unknown to humans  
  
Wikrish - Known to humans as a Welsh Green  
  
Gestevia - known as Chinese Fireball  
  
Driskorth - known as Hungarian Horntail  
  
Videkryst - known as Herbidean Black  
  
Besntia - known as Norwegian Ridgeback  
  
Jekthst - Antipodean Opaleye  
  
Scirthgras - Peruvian Vipertooth  
  
Ythhew - Swedish short snout  
  
Hskrith - Ukrainian Ironbelly  
  
Byoak - Romanian Longhorn  
  
Korrin'Tor - The Korrin'Tor are the strongest dragons in existence. They are all of different races but all of them exceed all bounds and are second to none, i.e. they are equally powerful in different ways. There are only three of them in the world. They are known as Leviathan, Taimat, and Trekast. Those three are acknowledged as pretty much the Gods [Goddess in Taimat's case] of dragonkind. Being that powerful does come at a price. the Korrin'Tor are infertile. They are the first and last of their kind. On the plus side they are almost impossible to kill.  
  
Antipodean Opaleye  
  
habitat: ocean water between Australia and New Zealand  
  
size: medium  
  
appearance: iridescent, pearly scales, serpent-like  
  
eyes: glittering, multicolored, with no pupils  
  
flame: vivid red  
  
food: large fish/sharks, human swimmers, occasionally known to leave water for sheep  
  
eggs: pale grey  
  
Chinese Fireball (Liondragon)  
  
appearance: scarlet with a fringe of golden spikes around its face  
  
eyes: protruding  
  
flame: mushroom-shaped  
  
food: pigs, humans  
  
eggs: vivid crimson speckled with gold  
  
Common Welsh Green  
  
habitat: nests in higher mountains  
  
appearance: green  
  
flame: narrow jet  
  
food: sheep  
  
eggs: earthy brown speckled with green  
  
Hebridean Black  
  
length: up to 30 feet  
  
appearance: dark, rough scales, ridges along back, tail is spiked flame: intense heat, short range twenty or so feet  
  
eyes: bright purple  
  
food: deer eggs: dark bluish-purple  
  
Hungarian Horntail  
  
appearance: black scales, bronze horns, spiked tail  
  
eyes: yellow, vertical pupils  
  
roar: yowling, screeching scream (GF19)  
  
flame: up to fifty feet  
  
food: goats, sheep, humans  
  
eggs: cement-colored with very hard shells  
  
Norwegian Ridgeback  
  
appearance: black scales, bronze horns, black ridges on its back  
  
fangs: venomous (SS)  
  
food: any large mammals, including water animals  
  
eggs: black  
  
Peruvian Vipertooth  
  
appearance: smooth, copper-colored, short horns  
  
fangs: highly venomous  
  
size: small (15 feet)  
  
food: goats, cows, especially humans  
  
Romanian Longhorn  
  
color: dark green scales, long glittering golden horn  
  
Swedish Short-Snout  
  
habitat: wild, uninhabited mountain areas  
  
appearance: silvery-blue  
  
flame: brilliant blue  
  
Ukrainian Ironbelly  
  
appearance: metallic grey, long talons  
  
size: largest breed of dragon, up to six tons  
  
eyes: deep red  
  
Livkadian Habitat: Burrows under the ground in plain type areas Appearance: smooth bodies, powerful arms and claws, large nose horn Size: medium Eats: buffalo, other herd animals  
  
Rigaalt Habitat: swamps Appearance: dark green scales, very dark (almost black) horns (three each side of face extending away from the front) Size: large Eyes: pale red  
  
Ysbaat Habitat: deep underground Appearance: ? Eyes: ? Eat: ? Size: small Flame: ?  
  
Gysaal  
It is said that the Gysaal and the Ysbaat were at one time the same genus. But key events caused a divergence within the species, resulting in the Ysbaat and the Gysaal. Nothing else is known about the Gysaal.  
  
Vahweh Habitat: Underwater Appearance: Varies between a deep blue to a pale blue-white and all in- between, amphibious Size: medium  
  
Opesic habitat: very cold areas, prefers to nest in snowy areas appearance: a dull white color, with a bluish tinge in varying markings eyes: pale blue vertical pupils size: large  
  
Nhajek habitat: dunes of Egypt appearance: dark tan  
  
I realize that this isn't all of them, but this is what I have for now.  
  
Draconic Words:  
  
Chapter One:  
  
Aklari - Flame  
Fsik - Temple  
Vsanhk - A direct translation doesn't really work, but in essence it means something like runt. Brevyt uses it a lot, mostly to annoy Aklari.  
  
Chapter Two:  
  
Isgath - Artic  
Phyres - (the) winter wind  
Isgath'Phyres - When combined thusly the two words refer to the wind that blows across the 'roof of the world', which is the coldest wind in 'existence.'  
Jsyik'Dislari - heart's blood. Aklari called Harry this as a term of endearment.  
  
I would have the other names for you but their meanings are saved on my laptop, which I can't access right now. I'll try and get them up as soon as I can. 


End file.
